What a Beautiful Mess
by StarkLovesShawarma
Summary: After winning the championship game, Kendall relaxes by playing his guitar by the fire. His music manages to wake up his sleeping friend in the process. Kendall/Carlos


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**Yea, I stayed home again today. I'm sick, and this is the result of it. I'm sorry it's so short, and it might be crap, but right now, I really don't care. There needs to be more Kendall/Carlos on here.**

I don't own Big Time Rush or this beautiful song your about to read by Jason Mraz. The lyrics have been switched up a little, but its not important.

_"You've got the best of both worlds. You're the kind of girl who can take down a man, and lift him back up again. You are strong but you're needy, humble but you're greedy. And based on your body language, and shoddy cursive I've been reading. Your style is quite selective, though your mind is rather reckless. Well I guess it just suggests that this is just what happiness is. Hey, what a beautiful mess this is..." _

The harmonious strum of the acoustic guitar wafted through the night's air. It was incredibly calming after a lasting day of hockey. Their championship game had ended about two hours ago. Kendall could still feel the spray of ice dash his face as he had gripped his hockey stick, reared back, and slammed it into the puck. The small rubber disk had flown, hitting the white ropes that made up the small net. A roaring buzzer sounded, and they had won. The blonde could have dropped to his knees and cried if it wasn't for his entire team lifting him, cheering his name. It was a good day. Now, he was resting on his back porch, the stone fire pit next to him lit up and flaming. His grey beanie covered his messy blonde hair. Kendall leaned back, continuing to glide his fingers over the rough strings of his guitar, or as he called it, his baby. But he would never admit that to his friends. _"It's like picking up trash in dresses. Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write, kind of turn themselves into knives. And don't mind my nerve you could call it fiction, but I like being submerged in your contradictions dear, 'cause here we are, here we are..."_ Kendall lightly sang into the open air, staring up at the black night sky. The tiny specs of stars flared in his jade eyes. It was late, and he would be laying down with his friends in the living room if he was able to sleep. But he couldn't, not after the excitement of the day, and the next best thing was playing his guitar. His fingertips felt so rough.

"Sounds good," a voice softly spoke out, causing Kendall's eyes to drift to his right. Carlos leaned agaisnt the sliding glass door, an easeful smile forming his lips. He wore a pair of grey boxer briefs and a white V neck, looking just as if he had rolled from the bed. His short black hair was sticking up in various directions as he sifted his fingers through it. Kendall sat straight, welcoming his friend as he walked around the fire, seating himself next to the blonde on the stiff cushions. The Latino let a small yawn escape his mouth as he rubbed his eye sleepily.

"How'd you sneak up on me like that?" Kendall asked, obviously being startled. Carlos laughed.

"I'm so ninja like that..." Carlos smiled. Kendall watched as he walked over and sat next to him on the light green patio couch. The fire's light flickered shadows over the Latino's olive skin.

"I just woke up though. It seems someone thinks its a good idea to play the guitar at one o'clock in the morning..." Carlos chuckled softly, pulling his legs onto the light green patio couch. Kendall's face colored a tiny bit, feeling sorry he woke up his friend after such a rough game. He let out an appology, but Carlos just laughed some more, like he always did. He was so calm at night compared to his rambunctious attitude during the day. Kendall's fingers hovered over his baby's strings, not sure if he should keep playing with Carlos there. It was a song he had written himself, and no one had ever heard it but him. It was personal. Besides, the world was making its own music. Insects could be heard chriping through the grass. The smaller teen nudged him in the shoulder. "What were you playing?" He inquired curiously, staring at his tall friend with wide awake eyes. Kendall hesitated briefly.

"It's just a song I wrote..." The blonde quietly said, almost bashfully. Carlos smiled at this. It wasn't everyday that you saw Kendall Knight out of his comfort zone, and he loved it, for some wierd reason.

"Go on then, continue," Carlos coaxed his friend, who held a nervous persona. Slowly but surley, Kendall's fingers began to roll down the wires, the low hum of the acoustic instrument breaking the night's sounds of crickets and frogs. Dubiously, he prepared his throat to sing. He was so nervous he could have sworn tears began to pool in the corner of his eyes.

_"Although you were biased, I love your advice. Your comebacks they're quick, and probably have to do with your insecurities. There's no shame in being crazy, depending on how you take these, words I'm paraphrasing this relationship we're staging. And what a beautiful mess, yes it is..."_ The blonde's eyes closed, feeling the release of weight from his chest as he breathed these words out carefully. Carlos stayed still, a smirk stuck to his cheek. He enjoyed the music. It was a different side of his best friend that he rarley witnessed. Expression poured out from his body as he sang. _"It's like taking a guess when the only answer is yes. Through, timeless words and priceless pictures We'll fly like birds not of this earth. And tides they turn and hearts disfigure, but that's no concern when we're wounded together. And we, tore our dresses and stained our shirts..."_ Kendall's music continued as he paused from the singing. Carlos had rested his head on his shoulder, his face near the blonde's neck. Kendall could feel the soft black hair brushing along his jaw line. The Latino was humming along with the melody of the guitar. The vibrations from this tickled Kendall's skin as he stared into the fire. Something told the songwriter that he should be pushing his friend away, telling him that it was incredibly gay, but for some reason, he didn't. For some reason, it felt okay...maybe even right. Kendall closed his eyes as he played. _"It's like picking up trash in dresses. Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you say, kind of turn themselves into blades, and the kind and courteous is a life I've heard. But it's nice to say that we played in the dirt. Oh what a beautiful mess, this is. Yes it is..." _The heat radiating from the fire warmed Kendall to the core. Or perhaps, was it Carlos' lips suddenly pressed agaisnt his cheek? Turning slowly to meet his friend's affection, their mouths brushed, and Kendall's face flushed rosey. Carlos' dark eyes stared up at his friend as his teeth clenched his lower lip. Looking into those aubrun eyes opened up a whole new side of Carlos Garcia to Kendall. They were stong, but also needy. In ways, humble, yet greedy. And for some odd reason, Kendall felt that his eyes were telling the same exact story. He felt as though Carlos had stripped him of his clothing and opened his chest, staring into his heart and his life and his emotions. For some reason...the blonde liked being exposed. The world's music drifted through their ears; the sounds of crickets strumming their legs, and frogs croaking their tunes. And as Kendall's mouth touched his best friend's, he couldn't help but to think: Oh, what a beautiful mess this is.

_We're wounded together. And we, tore our dresses and stained our shirts, but its nice today. Oh the way it was so worth it. What a beautiful mess, this is. _


End file.
